


whenever this world is cruel to me

by y9gurt (rydellon)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Character Injury, lets see if i have 20/20 vision on this one, no beta we die like tommy in this fic, very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydellon/pseuds/y9gurt
Summary: “You crying, big man?” Tommy teases, and coughs, because he has a sword stuck through his lung. A sword that Tubbo had just put there. Because they were fighting. Oh. Oh no.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 257





	whenever this world is cruel to me

**Author's Note:**

> hahah surprisingly this isnt a vent,,, anyway sorry
> 
> title from you're my best friend by queen

Tommy dies on Tubbo's sword. They're standing in the shade of the L’Mantree, a legend only in name, a fraud in its true nature. The war between three opposing parties (it had always been two before, Tubbo remembers. Him and Tommy and their allies against whoever opposed them that time.) had been slowly dying down for hours, people walking away from the blood stained battlefield, not invested enough to use up their respawns on what they viewed as a meager war that could be better prepared for. It was true, it could’ve been better prepared for, but when had Tommy ever been anything other than instantaneous.

This…stabbing was sort of poetic, Tubbo thought. At his last death Tommy had come rushing to his side as he faded into respawn, and then had attacked his own brother for him. Now, Tubbo had taken Tommy's last life, a bitter exchange for the empathy he was once shown by his best friend.

Former best friend? He was unsure.

He hears Phil scream in the background as another one of his children is condemned to the solemn hands of death by a family member, and he watches as Tommy's face splits into a soft smile at the sight of him, his hands grabbing weakly onto the sword now through his chest.

“You crying, big man?” Tommy teases, and coughs, because he has a sword stuck through his lung. A sword that Tubbo had just put there. Because they were fighting. Oh. Oh no.

Tubbo lets out a choked up sob and one of his hands flies off of the sword towards the wound, the other trying to keep Tommy as steady as possible as he lowers him down against L’Mantree, trying to keep his best friend ( _his best friend, who he’d just stabbed. Who let him do this?_ ) from dying quicker than he should, or even to try and prevent him from dying at all.

“Why’re you crying, man?” Tommy slurs out, one of his hands flopping up from its limp position by his side to wipe at Tubbo’s face.

“I just stabbed you,” Tubbo sobs, and Tommy frowns.

“That’s not so bad, is it?”

Tubbo chokes out a watery laugh, his free hand raising up to hit Tommy playfully before he remembers he probably shouldn’t. “Tommy. You have no respawns left. You—if you die here that’s it.”

“Eh, you saw what happened to Wilbur. I’ll be fine. Got all happy memories anyway.”

“You—I still killed you! Stabbed you! Probably going to die and all that!”

“Bit justified innit?”

Tubbo thinks back on the last few weeks. Tommy’s exile from the country, and Tubbo’s subsequent (and semi-involuntary) violent distancing from his best friend. The way Quackity or Fundy would steer him away if they thought they saw someone with blond hair and a red shirt. The way Tubbo didn’t even try to sneak out to find him like he’d done while in Manburg’s cabinet. The way he’d left his communicator face down in his house. “I—no. Not really. No. The exile? Yes. Not this.”

Tommy laughs again, a bit of blood coming out of the side of his mouth as it turns into a wince, and the two just sit for a second. Neither of them register the crowd of people they’ve started gathering, from all sides of the war.

“I’ll miss you.”

Tommy laughs and more blood splatters onto his shirt. “Don’t act like I’ll be gone in a few seconds.”

It’s silent. Light wind ruffles through L’Mantree’s leaves. There's vague noises of the clinking of armour in the background. Sobbing. Tubbo realizes that the last one is him.

“I'll miss you too, big man,” Tommy smiles, and the familiar fade out of a dead person going into reset starts to take hold of him. Except there’s no reset this time. No reset for Tommy, and no reset for Tubbo.

Tubbo sits there until his sword falls limply onto the ground, no longer having a chest to prop itself into, and then he stands up, marching determinedly towards the crater that New L’Manburg is stationed over, right through the crowd of people and the crack in the obsidian walls.

He’s sure Quackity will make a great president.


End file.
